Black Bar

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  A DISABLED CREW.

  "I thought it was all over with you, sir," said Tom Fillot, who,regardless of those over whom he had passed, had plunged aft and thrownhimself upon the coxswain, bearing him and the young midshipman downinto the stern-sheets of the boat, and holding the former till he wasdragged away, laid in the bottom, and held down forward, in spite of hisstruggles and cries.

  "I thought so, too, Tom. Ugh! how horrible! As if our position was notbad enough before; it is too hard to have a madman on board."

  "'Tis, sir; but I wonder we ain't all mad. My head's bad enough for meto be. Are you much hurt, sir?"

  "More frightened than hurt. I thought we should have been over into theblack water."

  "And it you had been, he'd ha' drowned you, as sure as sure, sir, for wecouldn't ha' found you in the darkness."

  "And the worst of it is, I don't know what to do," said Mark. "If DrWhitney were only here."

  "No use to wish, sir. If it was, I'd wish the _Naughtylass_ was here totry and catch the schooner and her crew. There is one thing to wishfor, though, and that's for to-morrow morning to come instead ofto-night, sir."

  "Yes, and I'm afraid it's a long way off yet," said Mark, with a sigh,as he looked round at the veil of black darkness which shut them in, andthen sat listening to the struggles and cries of the unfortunatecoxswain, till by degrees they grew weaker and weaker, and the men whohad been holding him relaxed their efforts, for their prisoner sank intoa heavy stupor.

  Startling and painful as this episode in their night's adventures hadbeen, it had had one advantage, that of making the time pass moreswiftly; and in consequence it was with a feeling of wonder that theyoung officer turned sharply round as Tom Fillot said drily,--

  "Good morning, sir."

  "What! What do you mean?"

  "First signs of it, sir. Listen! you can hear the birds beginning topipe."

  "Yes; that's a bird's whistle," said Mark. "Then we can't be so veryfar from the shore."

  "That's right, sir, and what I hope is that we're not very far from the_Naughtylass_, and that they'll be at work with the spy-glasses to seewhere we are."

  "And I've got to face the captain," thought Mark, "and give him anaccount of our night's work. How shall I do it? It's horrible to goback like this."

  As the time glided on, the sounds grew more frequent from the shore, andby degrees there was a lightening around them, and they made out thatthey were slowly gliding along over the calm sea beneath a thick canopyof mist, some eight or ten feet above their head; and this was graduallygrowing opalescent, and shot with bright tints, till all beneath wasfairly light, and the midshipman looked round for the _Nautilus_ and theschooner.

  But there were no signs of either, perhaps because the mist preventedthem from seeing fifty yards in any direction.

  There was plenty to see, however, inboard, and at the first glanceround, before his gaze was concentrated upon his officer, Mark Vandean'sheart sank within him at the sight of the wretched, dilapidated men,whom he had seen on the previous evening looking so smart and active.To a man they were battered, bruised, and bore traces of the terriblestruggle through which they had passed. The coxswain lay asleep, and,upon examining him, he seemed cool, and with the hope that he might wakeup calm and collected, Mark gave one look at Tom Fillot--who was themost disfigured of all, the blows he had received having caused his faceto swell up till he was hardly recognisable--and then devoted hisattention to Mr Russell, who lay senseless.

  It seemed terrible to have him once more lying helpless in the bottom ofthe boat, and as the lad gazed at his companion, he began to think itwould be wise to study surgery, ready for acting in an emergency likethis.

  Mark did what he could with Tom Fillot's help, doubling up a jacket fora pillow, and laying the lieutenant at his ease, before taking advantageof the mist beginning to disappear beneath the powerful rays of themorning sun to try and make out their position.

  This was soon done. They were about a couple of miles from the shore,and the tide was carrying them southward right away from the river atwhose mouth the schooner had been ashore, for the water was perfectlyclear here, while there it had been muddy and discoloured.

  Getting a clear view northward as the sun rose higher, both Mark and TomFillot carefully scanned the horizon in search of the _Nautilus_, butshe was not in view. There was a possibility of her being round aheadland which stretched out some ten miles away, but that was all.

  The next search was for the schooner; and, as she was nowhere in sightseaward, they had to content themselves with the possibility of herhaving taken refuge in some river or creek, such as were plentifulenough on the low-lying shore.

  Mark thought of his previous experience in an open boat, as he looked attheir position, lying there with a crew suffering from the effects oftheir encounter--two men seriously injured, and neither provisions norwater. As to weapons, some of the men had preserved theirs, but otherswere unarmed.

  Tom Fillot watched his officer as he looked round, and then ventured anobservation.

  "Looks lively, sir, don't it?"

  "It's horrible, Tom; but we must act, and at once."

  "Right, sir, and we're ready. Four on us can take an oar well enough,if you'll give the word."

  "We must row in shore and coast along till we come to a stream."

  "Not row out after the ship, sir?"

  "Without food or water? Have you forgotten our last trip?" cried Mark.

  "No, sir, and never shall forget it," said the man, with a shiver."You're right, sir, of course. Water we must have, victuals if we canget any. Nothing like having an officer with you, clever as you maythink yourself."

  Five minutes later the men were rowing steadily toward the land, whileMark rejoiced at the only piece of good fortune he had encountered sincethe previous night when he lay down, and that was in the fact that toget rid of the party who had captured the schooner, the slaver captainhad not scrupled to send them adrift in his own boat, one which provedto be light, swift, strong, and admirably adapted for facing the heavyswell that deluged the shore.

  Mark's time was pretty well divided between steering, watching hispatients, and keeping a look-out for an inlet into which the boat couldbe run. So as not to weary the men, he made them row with the tideuntil they had gone south some miles, and he was hesitating as towhether he ought not to turn back, when there were signs ahead of themouth of a river whose banks were heavily timbered. These signs provedto be correct, and in half an hour the boat was steered into a narrowcanal-like channel among the mangrove growth, made fast to a stem, andthe men, feverish--hot and suffering, drank eagerly of the swiftlyrushing water, forgetting its muddiness in the delicious coolness itimparted to their burning throats; while Fillot and his young officerbusied themselves, as they lay in the shade of the overhanging trees, inbathing the heads of the two sufferers, in each case winning for rewardsighs of satisfaction and content.

  "Hah!" ejaculated Tom Fillot, when, after holding down his face close tothe water, and drinking for some time like a horse, he sat up with a tinbaler in his hands, sipping from the full vessel, enjoying himself, andmaking comments for his comrades to hear.

  He had tried to smile, but the effort consequent upon the state of hisswollen face was too painful, and he gave that up.

  "Yer health, messmets," he said, raising the baler, "and wishing us allout of our difficulties."

  He took another sip of the muddy fluid, and nodded as he passed the tinto the next man.

  "Drink hearty, messmet," he said, "and pass it on. This is somethinglike water. Reg'lar strong slab stuff as has got plenty o' victuals init as well as drink. Reg'lar meaty water, like soup."

  "Why, it's on'y mud, mate," said the man who held the tin; "hadn't webetter let it settle?"

  "What for? Drink, my hearty. What's mud but dust o' the earth madewet? Well, we're all made o' the dust o' the earth, ain't we, andconsequently wet dust's just
the stuff to make yer grow strong again.Deal better than salt junk and pickled pig and biscuit, I can tell yer.There, tip it up. It's wonderful filling at the price."

  The man laughed, and emptied the baler.

  "'Tarn't bad, mate," he said, as he leaned over the side to refill thetin.

  "Bad? I should think not. I feel like a noo man."

  "And you looks it, too, matey," said the other grinning. "I shouldn'tha' knowed you with that boiled duff fizz-mahogany o' yourn. How muchbigger's it going to get?"

  "Well, of all the pot calling kettle black as ever I knowed on," saidTom Fillot, "that's about the rummest. Why, your head's all o' one sidelike an ugly turmut, and your eyes is on'y two slits."

  "We ain't none on us got much to boast on, 'cept our orficer," said DickBannock. "Pass that there tin."

  "To be sure," said Tom Fillot, "and handsome is as handsome does. Mightbe a deal worse off, mates. Drink away; the mud won't hurt us. We'rein the shade and got plenty o' water. Different to being right out atsea in a calm, eh, Mr Vandean, sir?"

  "Don't talk about it, my lad," said Mark. "But look, Joe Dance isgetting up. Pray don't let him break loose again."

  For the coxswain suddenly sat up and stared about him wildly. Thencalming down, he cried,--

  "Got a drink o' water, messmets?"

  "Plenty, my lad," said Tom Fillot, passing the tin. "How's your headthis morning?"

  "Bit achey," said the coxswain, who took the tin and drained it.

  "Hah!" he ejaculated, as he drew a long, deep breath, "that's good, butyou forgot to send it through the skipper's pilfer."

  "Warn't time, matey," said Tom watching him curiously. "'Sides,pilfered water ain't good for you."

  "Feel better this morning, Dance?" said Mark.

  "Yes, sir, thankye sir. Head aches a deal and feels muzzy like, and Ididn't sleep quite as I should like. Too much bad dream to please me."

  "No wonder, mate," struck in Tom Fillot. "Having your head rubbed sohard with a big bat ain't good for no one."

  Mark sat by his brother officer in the comparative coolness trying tothink out some plan to adopt, for though they were resting in the shade,and the agonies of thirst were assuaged, he knew that it would not belong before they were all suffering from hunger, and he shuddered as hethought of the tales he had heard respecting the straits men had beendriven to when perishing for want of food in an open boat.

  But though he thought long and patiently, no idea came to him betterthan for them to coast along till they came abreast of some village,though he felt very little hope of meeting with such good fortune uponthat sparsely inhabited shore. Further north there were towns andvillages, but these were hundreds of miles away.

  There was a possibility of their finding a native village, the home ofsome black chief, if they proceeded up the river; but it was chancework, and, unless compelled, Mark shrank from leaving the coast andcutting himself off from the chance of being seen by the _Nautilus_ ifshe came back in search of them. So he decided to keep along the shore.

  And now he blamed himself bitterly for his ignorance. For if he haddevoted a little time to studying the charts, he might have had a fairknowledge of the coast, and the chance of finding some tradingsettlement north or south; while now, as he told himself, here he was incommand of a boat, and, boy as he was, answerable to his superiorofficer for the lives of the men. Accident had placed him in hispresent position, but then officers had, as he knew, to be prepared forsuch emergencies, and he was not ready in the slightest degree.

  He made a vow to make up for lost time if the opportunity occurredagain, and began once more to examine Mr Russell's state.

  The insensibility continued still, and the faint hope he had nursed ofthe lieutenant recovering sufficiently to relieve him of hisresponsibility died away, so he landed with Fillot and began to lookabout him.

  The place he had selected at the river's mouth, for the sake of theshade and water, was hidden from any vessel passing, but it was sosuited for their purpose that he felt it would be unwise to change it,as they could row out if a vessel hove in sight, and a good watch wouldbe kept. Anything was better than exposing the men to the broiling sun,weak as they were with their injuries, and he felt that such a coursewould be fatal to Mr Russell, so he determined to stay, at all eventstill the heat of the day had passed, and then make the men row steadilynorth.

  He had just come to this conclusion, when he caught sight of TomFillot's occupation, which was the unravelling of the boat's painter.

  "What's that for, Fillot?" he asked, sharply.

  "Well, sir, I couldn't see no fruit trees nor no fields o' corn ashore,so I thought the best thing to do would be to have a try at ketching afish."